A Terrible Start to a Morning
by Fire The Canon
Summary: It's the day of the Quidditch World Cup final. Bulgaria vs. Ireland. The crowds are packed, people from all over the world have come to watch the two best teams of 1994 battle it out. Everyone is excited, the two teams are up early for a last minute practice. It's all going swimmingly... and Viktor can't find his Quidditch gloves.


_**Written for Achieve the Outstanding Challenge (Acceptable - prompts: stress, jealous)**_

_**Written for My Boring Life Competition (Viktor can't find his Quidditch gloves)**_

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**A Terrible Start to a Morning**

"Go away," Viktor mumbled, pushing aside the hand that had dared to wake him. "I said… go away." He pushed even harder against the persistent hand until it completely left him. Smiling, with his eyes still closed, Viktor rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

A moment later and someone was again trying to wake him.

"Viktor… Viktor," they said with urgency. It was a man's voice, and they were speaking in his native tongue of Bulgarian. "Viktor, it's time to get up." This time, the speaker used greater force than they had previously attempted and rolled the large Seeker onto his back. Viktor groaned, opening his eyes.

"What?" he demanded. For Merlin's sake, wasn't he allowed just a little bit of peace and quiet?

"Viktor, it's time to practice," the voice said again. With a closer look Viktor realised it was his good friend and teammate Alexei Levski.

Groaning, Viktor decided to sit up. The bed wasn't all that comfortable anyway. Who had organised such a plain place to stay before the Quidditch World Cup final?

"What time is it?" he asked, looking around for a clock on the wall. There was none.

"Eleven," Alexei informed him.

Viktor's eyes widened. "And the date?"

"It is almost the final," Alexei said.

Viktor swore and climbed out of bed faster than he could fly a broom. They were going to be latte for a last minute practice and the final was in just a few short hours. "Why'd you let me sleep?" he asked Alexei harshly.

"You're hard to wake up," his friend answered in amusement. "Come on, let's go."

"One moment. I just need to find my gloves." Viktor moved to the trunk where he stored all of his Quidditch gear and dug deep for the special gloves that had been given to him as a gift from his mother. He had used them the whole tournament and had succeeded better than he had hoped. They were the best on the market.

"We'll be late," Alexei urged, hovering by the door.

"One moment," Viktor said again. He needed to take out all of his robes and broom just to reach them. He always regretted just throwing them into the trunk after each match.

It wasn't until he had taken absolutely every item of clothing out did he realise his gloves weren't in there.

No, they had to be.

"Accio, gloves."

Nothing came.

"Are you coming?" Alexei asked irritably. "Come on. You may be special enough to not be suspended from the final if you're late, but I'm not." He opened the door.

"I can't find my gloves," Viktor said.

"Well use another pair. It's just practice."

Viktor couldn't do that. He had not parted with them all tournament, match or practice.

Alexei sighed. "Fine. Well I'm going to the secret training ground. I'll see you there." He slammed the door behind him without a word.

Viktor tried summoning his gloves again.

_Where could they be? _he wondered as he checked under the bed and also in the bathroom in case he had dumped them there by mistake. They were nowhere to be seen.

It was starting to worry Viktor now. He was certainly late to practice, which he knew would not please the rest of the team. Alexei was right when he said it didn't matter if Viktor showed up late or on time; he'd still be the most treasured team member on the pitch.

_Maybe I should just go without them, _he thought, but a tightening in his stomach told him that was a very bad idea. Not on the final day. Certainly not then.

He checked his trunk one more time and under the bed. If he didn't find them soon the stress would become way too much, even to deal with his jealous teammates.

He swallowed.

Okay, so if he talked to his coach and explained his reasoning maybe that would be enough. He played better with his gloves and considering it was the final of the Quidditch World Cup, of course they wanted to win.

No. No, that would not work. Any excuses he may have had would not bring back his gloves.

Viktor was just about to resign himself to forgoing the final when a scuffle distracted him from outside of his room. Curiously he opened the door to see who or what was causing such a commotion. To his surprise there were two rather young red-haired boys standing just before him, wands out and fists bunched. They didn't even notice Viktor to begin with.

"Um… exkewse me," Viktor tried, clearing his throat.

The two boys both paled and hid their wands behind their backs as they came to face him.

Viktor frowned. "May I ask… why?" His English wasn't the best, and he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to ask. Or how.

The boy on the right also cleared his throat and dug into his pocket. He spoke with a thick accent. From where, Viktor didn't know.

"Sir… Mister… er… Krum," he said. "We, um, found these." He pulled from the pocket two brown gloves Viktor recognised immediately.

"My gloves!" he exclaimed. "Where?"

The boys looked embarrassed about such a question.

"Er…."

"We took them when we went to watch you practice the other day," the second man said. "You know… we were going to sell _Viktor Krum's gloves _and get quite a nice profit for it."

"My special Quidditch gloves?" he wondered aloud.

Both of the boys nodded. "Our mother caught us, though," the first one said. "Caught us trying to sell them and when we told her the truth she marched us right back to your team's headquarters and told us to return them. When we explained what happened they said it was okay for us to come directly to your room to return them to you."

Viktor only nodded and reached out his hand to accept the gloves. The boy holding them reluctantly handed them over.

"I thank you," he said awkwardly.

The boys grinned. "Any time," they said in unison. They both turned to leave, but the one of the left turned back, causing the other to do so as well. "Say, Krum," he said. "You don't think by any chance we could have them back after the match, do you. It's just, we want to set up our own joke shop and we kind of need the gold."

For a moment Viktor almost felt like laughing, but stopped himself and said, "I will see. They are my favourite after all."

The boys nodded and grinned again. "Thanks, Krum!" they said and turned to head back from where they came.

Viktor shook his head, closing the door, and looked down at the gloves in his hand. This time he did smile.

What an interesting morning this had certainly turned out to be.

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_**Phew! I am really cutting the deadline of the competition close, that's for sure. But I hope you enjoyed it, as this was quite fun to write! Please share your thoughts with me. Much appreciated!  
**_


End file.
